GerIta Song Drabbles
by Slightly2Loud
Summary: Nine GerIta song drabbles, including Spamano if you really, really squint. Character death, yaoi, and a slightly OOC Germany sometimes. Enjoy!


**Hey there guys! I'm not dead! I just didn't have any internet, because my dad went to London and took the router with him. So, listen, I kinda cheated here. I made sure I got time to finish all of the drabbles, because I hate it when people don't finish them. Also, there are only nine songs, because my MP3 conked out after the ninth. **

**Hope you enjoy a bit of GerIta!**

**x Rachel**

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Jolene – Dolly Parton

Feliciano stared across the room, eyes narrowed angrily as he watched Ludwig laugh at her joke. Hell, she was practically hanging off him, for Christ's sake. He knew, deep inside, that it didn't mean anything, that Ludwig loved him, but it lit a jealous spark inside him to see Ludwig with her. She giggled at something Ludwig said, and Feliciano scowled.

He had only just managed to get Ludwig, and that hurt. Ludwig had had many crushes, but Feli only ever had eyes for Ludwig. Now that he had him, he wasn't losing him to anyone, and this girl was pretty enough for Ludwig to fall for. He got out of his seat, and approached the table.

"Ludwig, I think we'd better be going," he said quietly. Ludwig nodded, and reached out for his coat. The girl put her hand on his arm to stop him.

"Who are you to boss him about?" she asked scornfully.

"His boyfriend," said Feli simply, smiling mockingly as Ludwig stood up and offered his hand to the Italian, and they walked out of the bar hand-in-hand.

The Winner Takes it All – ABBA

"Feliciano!"

He spun round to see the blonde hurtle towards him. He stopped just in front of the Italian, and looked into his eyes. Why did he have to do that? That one look, and Feli felt like he would forgive Ludwig for anything. Not this, though. Never this.

"No," said Feli, turning away.

"Please, Feli," he begged, reaching out and taking the Italian's arm. "Just listen to me."

"No," said Feli, knowing that he would cry if he stayed here too long. "You chose her, not me. And that's fine, that's your choice, but I'll never be able to be your friend. I couldn't see you and her every day, and know that I had you, and I lost you. Do you see?"

"Yes, but Feli listen," said Ludwig, still not letting go of Feli's arm. "It was a year ago, and ever since that day I've realised; I was wrong. I need you Feli, I need your smile, and your laugh, and everything about you. I was an idiot." He spoke these words like he meant them, looking deep into the Italian's amber eyes.

"How do I know you mean it?"

"What?"

"How do I know you won't just leave me again, for someone else, like you did before?"

Ludwig waited a moment, thinking, before leaning in and kissing Feli on the lips. And Feli knew that he meant it this time.

Don't Let Go – Miles Fletcher 

Germany woke up to birds chattering outside his open bedroom window, sunlight streaming through onto the plum carpet. He made to get out of bed, and realised he couldn't; something was clutching onto his arm, anchoring him down.

He looked beside him to see a peaceful-looking Italy, arms wound around Germany's muscular arm, mumbling something in his sleep. Germany smiled softly to himself, and got back into bed, pulling Italy to him so that he was holding the delicate little Italian in his arms. Italy snuggled in and went back to mumbling. Germany listened in to his lover's sleepy spiel.

"Doitsu… How do you say it again? Oh, ve… ich liebe dich, Doitsu," he mumbled into Germany's chest, and Germany smiled.

"Ti amo, Italia," he whispered into Italy's hair.

Raise Your Glass – P!nk

Bringing Feliciano to a bar was an awful idea. Ludwig wasn't drinking, for the sole reason that he knew how drunk his bruder could get when he was given free reign at a bar, and he didn't want to have to resort to calling their grandfather, which happened last time he and Gilbert had both got drunk. But Feli? Feli was so drunk he'd forgotten what his last name was.

"No… wait… I know it… It's, um, Smith!" he giggled, arm around his brother, who was watching him disgustedly.

"No, it's Vargas, and you'll probably need to know that if the police happen to pop in," scowled Lovino.

"Huh? I thought they already came, fratello!" smiled Feli drunkenly, pointing to Arthur across the room.

"'Ey!" yelled Arthur, slurring all his words together. "You poin'in' a me?"

"Uh-huh," giggled Feli. "Cause you look like a police-something. An' Alfred's your damsel in distress!" He went back to laughing, and Arthur was too drunk to protest.

"Feli, I think you should stop the drink now," Germany said, reaching out to touch the little nation. "Do you want me to take you home?"

"Sure," smiled Feli, lowering his eyelashes. "Or maybe we could just both stay at yours…"

Germany sighed. Why was it that drunken Italy always managed to turn him on?

Girl Like That – Every Avenue

Germany hated inviting Italy out to dinner.

It was always perfect for the Italian, but a nightmare for the German. Germany had been in love with Italy for as long as he could remember, but knew that his feelings were not returned. Italy was fond of talking, and whenever they went out for dinner, he always ended up chatting up some waitress, or something. Germany knew he never meant it; flirting was the only cruel thing Italy could do to anyone, seeing as he was both gorgeous and good fun, but it still hurt him to see Italy with anyone but him.

This night was the same. They had finished dinner earlier, and Italy had, as usual, made every girl in the establishment fall in love with him. They were now walking down the strand, next to the beach. Germany glanced quickly over at Italy, taking in the soft chestnut hair, that funny little curl, the beautiful amber eyes, the absent-minded smile. Italy noticed him, and smiled wider, Germany blushing a little. Italy reached out his hand and slipped it into Germany's as they walked; they didn't say anything, but that was fine. They didn't need to.

Perhaps the night hadn't gone so bad, Germany thought to himself.

Accidentally in Love – Counting Crows

"Germany!"

Germany turned around just in time to catch the brunette, who had run towards him at full speed. He picked him up in his arms and spun him round, setting him down on his feet when both of them were laughing and breathless. Italy hugged Germany tightly, and Germany hugged him back, before leaning down to kiss the smaller man on the lips.

"Germany?" Italy asked when they pulled away.

"Ja?" replied Germany as they began to walk home, hands joined.

"How did we even get like this?" he asked in his usual ditzy, blunt way.

Germany smiled, thinking back to their first kiss, when they had been sitting a little too close and a meddling Prussia had pushed them together. He had first been angry at Prussia, for doing that when Germany had specifically asked for him not to do anything, after he had confessed to his brother that he loved Italy. Now, he loved his brother for that one action; the one action that had made Italy his.

"You know vat, Italien?" he laughed. "By accident."

Fairytale – Alexander Rybak

The entire crowd stood, silent, heads bent forwards. Every man, woman and child in the crowd was dressed in black, solemn, sincere in their grief. Familiar faces scattered the congregation, and as the priest closed the bible he as reading from, six men stood up from their seats and walked forwards to pick up the black box on their shoulders.

The first was a tall man with silver-blonde hair and red eyes, in colour and tear-stained approach. He wore a mixed expression on his face; pain and anger and sadness all at once. As he stood up the girl in the seat next to him reached out to touch his arm, but he shrugged it off.

The second man was Asian-looking, with black hair and solemn brown eyes. He showed no emotion as he picked up the coffin on his shoulder, and nor did the brown-haired Austrian behind him, even though it was clear they were hurting.

On the other side of the coffin, next to the brunette, was a tall, tanned man with messy brown hair and green eyes. He looked out-of-place with all the pale, central Europeans, but was doing his part. In front of him was a man with a curl sticking out of his head to the right. He was scowling, but watching the man in front of him carefully.

The man at the front of that row was identical to the man behind him, only with lighter hair and a curl on the other side. His eyes were so teary he could barely see where he was going, and was biting down hard on his bottom lip to stop crying. He was shaking.

As they walked down the aisle, the congregation spotted the man's hand clenched onto the edge of the coffin, and gasped. On his fourth finger was a gold ring, with words that no-one could read from their seats engraved round the edge. The man, seeing them staring, began to shake even worse, holding on tighter to the box.

The words read: _Ich liebe dich_

**(Guys, I almost cried writing this one, so be nice.)**

Heaven When You Kiss Me - ? (it was a Naruto thing)

Italy had so many different kinds of kisses.

There were the ones he gave to everyone, a kiss on the cheek, a kiss on the forehead, always accompanied by huge hug and a 've!' He kissed Germany like that, but he also kissed Prussia, Hungary, Spain, Romano, and even France like that. It didn't mean anything. It was the other kinds that did.

Sometimes, when Italy was in a rush, or when he had to go out soon, he'd kiss Germany like this. He'd lean forward, pull the German's face closer to his, and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. Nothing special, just one short, sweet kiss before he disappeared out the door, but it made the German feel shivers all down to his spine.

And then there was the kind of kiss Italy gave more often, the one Germany liked the most; a real kiss. A kiss where the Italian would wrap his legs around the German, his hands in his hair, Germany pulling Italy closer to him until they almost molded together. This kind of kiss was the best, and Italy only ever kissed Germany like that, tasting the inside of his mouth with his tongue until they were forced to pull away for air.

That kind tasted like heaven.

I'd Lie – Taylor Swift

Feliciano was interesting, in so many different ways. He was beautiful for a start, with messy chocolate hair and sparkly amber eyes, slim and energetic, except when he was on the field for PE. He loved to laugh, and his smile was so natural people noticed when he wasn't smiling. He talked all the time, even about things that didn't make sense, like how cool it would be if they made pasta shaped like smiley faces, and sad faces, so you could eat your mood. Ludwig listened to him even when he said idiotic things like that, just so he could watch the Italian and not have to look away when he was spotted.

What? Did Ludwig love him? No! He was just… interesting, that was all. There was no way Ludwig actually _loved _the boy. The things he knew about him – his obsession with pasta, the way he kissed everyone, his favourite colour, every item in his schoolbag – that was for research, not because he loved him. As completely gorgeous, friendly, happy and addicting the Italian was, Ludwig didn't love him.

No way.

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**Explanation time!**

**1) Italy and Germany are at a bar, and Italy gets jealous of Germany flirting with other girls (basically, the opposite of what normally happens). 2) Germany ditches Italy, and then realises that he loves him. 3) Italy dreams about Germany, Germany's POV. 4) Drunken Italy is hot. 5) Germany hates the way Italy is such a flirt. 6) Germany remembers how he and Italy got together, courtesy of Prussia. 7) Germany dies just after he and Italy get engaged. Set during funeral; coffin carriers are Prussia, Japan, Austria, Spain, Romano and Italy, in that order. 8) Germany talks about Italy's kisses. 9) Germany in denial (my favourite kind of Germany).**

**I hope ya liked it! Review!**


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